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by franksbestfriend22



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Domestic, Drabbles, Falling In Love, Implied Smut, Implied abuse, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 09:38:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17363582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franksbestfriend22/pseuds/franksbestfriend22
Summary: A little drabble I put together about Frank getting a second chance at love.





	Home

She dances into Frank Castle’s life -- literally dances, holding a carafe of coffee and swinging her hips to the music playing in the diner before she turns around and sees him in the doorway. 

_Oh, shit._ She giggles quietly and he loves how she isn’t embarrassed, loves that her body continues to dance in the smallest movements, a finger snapping, foot tapping, as she serves him coffee and pie. 

 

It’s almost silly how fast they end up in bed together, back at her place. A tiny apartment full of the smell of her shampoo and soft pillows. It becomes a regular thing. He learns her name, Anna, and she says his name like it’s a prayer as he moves inside her.

 

He loves that they each have their scars -- his puckered flesh and the chip in her left canine that he runs his tongue over every time they kiss. It pains him to learn how that tooth came to be chipped and when she wakes up tangled in the sheets and crying some nights, he gently folds her body into his arms and kisses the tears away. The nightmares are mercifully rare for him these days, but when they come, she plays rain sounds on her phone until they both fall back to sleep, clutching each other tight. 

 

He takes her to meet Curtis after a month and stands behind her, one hand on the small of her back as she talks to him about her own work at the VA with soldiers who see ghosts of their fallen friends and sleep with loaded guns under their pillows. He goes to one of the sessions that she runs and sits in the back, watching how her hair falls in a curtain in front of her face as she talks quietly to one guy who stays after everyone else has left, crying and crying. When he leaves after their conversation, he’s smiling. Frank helps Anna put away the chairs, wraps her in his arms, presses kisses all over her face until she laughs and pushes him away. 

 

His favorite days are the late afternoons when the diner is mostly empty, just a few regulars who like him, are allowed to keep their own coffee pot at their table. He sits at the counter and flirts shamelessly with her, trying to make her blush because God, does he love the raspberry tint that creeps up her throat and cheeks when she’s happy and how she shows all her teeth when she smiles. 

 

It’s Christmas Eve and Frank can’t believe that it’s been 6 months since he met her. He’s basically moved into her place; his toothbrush is next to hers, his aftershave next to her perfume, and his boots next to her sneakers in the hallway. Most importantly, his body is next to hers on the bed, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on the bare skin of her back. Skin that he’s mapped every inch of with his hands, lips, teeth, and tongue. He knows every freckle, dimple, and curve, loves that he knows just how to make her fall apart with his touch. Anna turns her head and looks at him, curls falling over her face and his heart hurts with how much he loves her.

 

A month later and neither of them have said the words yet. But here she is with him at Maria and the kids’ graves, helping him lay out flowers. He’s crying soundlessly, not entirely out of sadness, but because he knows that he’s marking the end of a chapter. He whispers _thank you thank you thank you_ over Maria’s headstone, pressing his lips to Frankie and Lisa’s names. Anna waits, her hands folded, her head bowed. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, feels a sudden warmth fill him top to bottom and can swear that he hears Maria’s voice in his ear. _We’re okay. I want you to be happy._ He smiles, opens his eyes. He moves to Anna and holds her so close he can feel her heart beating against his chest. Frank tucks her hair behind her ears, cradling her face in his hands, so precious, so fragile, completely his. She says it first and the three little words burrow their way into the cracks of his heart and smooth them over like glossy paint. 

 

He can’t stop saying it now. Any time he leaves the room, _I love you._ She says it back every time and it’s always a miracle to him. 

 

The house they buy is beautiful. Old enough to have character, but new enough that they can fill it with memories all their own without disturbing the past. Frank sits on the couch and watches Anna dance around the room to Sinatra, wondering how in the hell he deserves this second chance at life.

 

Anna stirs in the hospital bed and Frank’s heart flutters as he watches their newborn daughter reflexively reach out for her mother from her position on his chest. He soothes her by stroking her nose and marvels at how his callused finger can touch something so delicate and not sully it. She has Anna’s curls already, but her eyes are all Frank; dark and inquisitive. I will always protect you, he whispers, taking one of her tiny hands and pressing it to his mouth. Anna opens her eyes and smiles at him sleepily. He puts an arm around her, careful not to disturb the baby, who they’ve decided to call Hope. Neither of them could think of a more fitting name and as Frank rests his head against Anna’s, he knows that he is home.


End file.
